


Slick with Sweat

by Crows_Imagine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Scent Kink, also Kuroo in Daichi's jersey, good shit, some armpit licking and also rimming, sweat kink, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/pseuds/Crows_Imagine
Summary: It’s official. Kuroo has a fucking scent kink— sweat kink, specifically, but any scent of Daichi’s is great— and he’s jacked off to it. That’s splendid. Another dirty secret added to his drawer of plenty.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	Slick with Sweat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fazi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Fazi).



Tetsurou knows he’s not a vanilla person, but at least he prides himself on not having weird kinks. Weird being objective and really, as long as no one is actually harmed and it’s consensual, do whatever the hell you want.

But he didn’t think he’d have a “non-mainstream” kink. Then Sawamura Daichi, as he always does, struts right in and makes any plans go to shit, in the best way possible.

By pinning the blame on Daichi, Tetsurou can act as a poor innocent bystander who had nothing to do with this ever-growing kink. What is it? A fucking scent kink.

Tetsurou has always admired how nice Daichi smells on the regular. Nothing too fancy, his usual apple shampoo and ‘ocean spray’ deodorant; on date nights sometimes a cologne that doesn’t weird out his sense of smell (he doesn’t know what he’d do if Daichi ever bought Axe body spray), and sometimes whatever he’s cooking on his night for preparing dinner. Nothing, however, beats the best smell: sweat. Pure unadulterated sweat.

He’s played volleyball for many years and has smelled his fair share of reeking body odor. He’d never in a million years believe he’d find sweat attractive. And he doesn’t, except on one person specifically.

Playing on the same volleyball team as your crush and then boyfriend has its perks. Tetsurou gets to check out Daichi’s ass in his too tight gym shorts, white shirt soaked with sweat, sometimes even seeing his bare chest when Daichi deems the gym too hot to continue in a shirt (thank the heavens above). And of course, sharing an apartment with your boyfriend has even more perks. Often Daichi wears T-shirts and boxers to bed, again sometimes shedding his shirt. Even after he takes a shower and slides into bed, smelling like green apple and soap, Tetsurou snuggles close and imagines Daichi covered in sweat, pinning his wrists above his head, letting him actually lick his sweat.

And he always hates himself for thinking of this at night because normally when these thoughts occur, Daichi is snoring away, fast asleep, leaving Tetsurou to shamefully sneak to the bathroom and rub out his problem. After a few times of doing this, his wandering eye landed on the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. On top of the stack of clothes rests Daichi’s practice shirt.

Oh no. Kuroo Tetsurou is better than this.

At least that’s what the voice inside his head is chiding him, even as he reaches towards the basket and pulls out the shirt. Today was a ruthless practice and the sweat stains really show. Fuck, it smells so good.

One hand holding the shirt close to his face and the other around his dick, Tetsurou is too aroused to be ashamed. He breathes in the sweet smell, and notices that when he picks up the shirt and breathes in the scent, the coiled feeling in his lower gut gets even hotter. He even orgasms harder, whimpering into the cotton fabric.

It’s official. He has a fucking scent kink—  _ sweat  _ kink, specifically, but any scent of Daichi’s is great— and he’s jacked off to it. That’s splendid. Another dirty secret added to his drawer of plenty.

After cleaning himself up, he wonders if it would be suspicious to see if Daichi prefers showering at the apartment instead of the gym locker rooms.

Luckily Daichi prefers their shower at their apartment. Tetsurou tries to hide his excitement whenever Daichi puts off a shower until they arrive back home from practice.

Though a bit of shame lingers, he’s quite happy that he has a routine down. He’s always liked routines. Daichi won’t get disgusted by his jerking off to sweaty shirts, and Tetsurou also gets added arousal from having a dirty secret. The perfect setup for jerking off. Couldn’t be more perfect if he tried.

But it’s not a secret for much longer. A few weeks later, Tetsurou has to sit out a couple of practices due to a minor finger injury after the previous day’s match. As annoyed as he is, at least he has some extra free time for a week. He cleans up their apartment, gets ahead on notes, and even makes dinner for the week so neither of them have to worry about it.

And then of course comes laundry time. Tetsurou hasn’t had the time lately to indulge his dirty little secret, and with Daichi out of the apartment at practice, now seems the perfect time. After doing this for so long, he doesn’t even slowly tug out a shirt, rather grabbing Daichi’s jersey and tossing it in the air. He’s glad it was game day yesterday, Daichi’s jersey always smells the best compared to his gym shirts. Tetsurou makes the bold decision to settle on the couch instead of their bedroom or the bathroom. After all, Daichi isn’t home so no one to worry about walking in. Perfect time to jerk off.

He kicks off his sweatpants and is about to jam a hand down his boxer briefs when a brilliant idea strikes him. Why hasn’t he thought of this before? Sitting up, Tetsurou yanks off his own shirt and replaces it with Daichi’s jersey. Daichi may be shorter than him, but he’s a few sizes bigger, due to all that muscle. Damn, he could wax poetics about Sawamura Daichi’s perfect muscles. But that’s for another time.

Tetsurou has the extra (albeit, not that much on Daichi, but enough to tease his boyfriend about it and get an annoyed look directed at him) height and lankiness in the relationship, Daichi has the power thighs and muscles.

The jersey is a little big on him, grazing the tops of his thighs. He’s always loved wearing Daichi’s clothes, but normally it’s in the domestic way. Tetsurou didn’t realize he could get more turned on from Daichi’s sweat but when he’s wearing the shirt he’s jacking off to? Yeah, that’s a new level of turned on-ness.

Tetsurou lifts the neckline up to his nose and breathes in the smell. Even though the act is quite dirty in itself, Daichi’s clothes always provided him a sense of comfort. Even if he’s not physically there, it’s a reminder that yes, the sweet wing spiker he met in their last year of high school is actually his boyfriend. He gets choked up if he ponders over his luck too long.

Encouraged by his own innovation, he slides his hand back down to his gray boxer briefs, freeing his cock. Already there’s a ton of precum leaking onto the gray. Tetsurou has perfected the art of pleasuring himself, knowing that to get a strong reaction from himself, he needs to start off slow (unless he’s too impatient to do that, which admittedly often he is). Almost lazily he pumps himself, eyes sliding closed. Sometimes when he’s doing this, breathing in Daichi’s smell, he pretends his boyfriend is here, that maybe he’s the one actually touching him or even just watching with pinning dark eyes and a sexy smirk laced across his lips.

Tetsurou is glad the walls of the apartment are thick, otherwise he’s sure their neighbors would complain about the noises. He’s a little embarrassed about it, but he’s… far from quiet. Many times, Daichi fetches out one of their suit ties, or even a specially bought mouth gag, to keep him quiet. However, sometimes his noises even distract himself.

“Daichi… fuck,” he curses, almost letting out a loud whine when his thumb catches against his slit. “F- _ fuck!” _

In fact, sometimes he’s so loud that he forgets his surroundings. Or rather, when something about his surroundings change…

The door opens, a bag drops to the floor, shoes accompanying them, and Tetsurou doesn’t hear a damn thing, not even registering anything until a figure appears in the doorway of the living room. Tetsurou opens his eyes and nearly falls off the couch.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” he squawks, almost comically and he’d laugh except, yeah his boyfriend who is definitely  _ not  _ supposed to be there, is there in the flesh.

“It’s our apartment, Tetsurou,” Daichi says, not the least bit bothered. He almost calm and… expectant? Almost like… he intended to find Tetsurou wearing his jersey, having some solo rub-down time. That can’t be right, since Tetsurou always made sure to be extra careful to keep his dirty secret an actual  _ secret _ . He didn’t have to be careful about it being dirty, that bit was already handled.

“I certainly hope you’d be expecting me,” Daichi continues. “Although my guess is that you didn’t expect me home so soon.” He pointedly looks down, eyeing Tetsurou’s grip on his dick.

“P-practice doesn’t end until at least another hour!” Tetsurou stammers, somehow managing to sit up despite a hand down his underwear. True talent.

“Remember we had a game yesterday?” Daichi reminds him.

Oh shit.

Daichi runs a hand through his messy (and sweaty, oh no) locks. “After a practice game, we went over notes and coach let us out early.” He moves closer to the couch, but doesn’t sit on it. “You’re wearing my jersey,” he notes. A smirk spreads across his lips. “It looks good on you.”

“Of course, babe. I look good in everything,” Tetsurou attempts to flirt, but he’s still hard as a rock, and his hand is dripping wet. He tries to slyly stroke himself, but Daichi catches him. 

“I didn’t tell you to start again, did I?” he says in his low, captain voice.

Tetsurou pauses his hand movement. “You didn’t tell me to stop, either,” he points out, a tad cheekily. He’ll never give in easily, it’s practically his trademark.

Daichi’s eyes glint. “I’m telling you now.  _ Start _ . Don’t go slow either.”

“Since when are you in charge?” Tetsurou complains, not the least bit bothered. Rather the opposite. But he’s totally  _ not  _ a bottom. He’s a switch, dammit!

With bottom tendencies. That’s all.

“Since always, you horny cat.” Daichi settles across from him on the couch, nonchalantly like they’re about to watch television.

“You wound me, Sa’amura.” Tetsurou shivers when his thumb nail scratches his slit. 

“You think I didn’t know you sneaked to the bathroom to do this?” Daichi says, not taking his eyes off Tetsurou.

He’s about to pause to inquire, but Daichi’s raised eyebrow keeps his hand moving.

“Why do you think I didn’t put my jersey in the wash when I did laundry earlier?” Daichi continues, leaning forward and tracing his fingertips on Tetsurou’s thighs.

“You did not plan this,” Tetsurou complains. He wouldn’t be surprised if Daichi did. He just has to at least put up a fight.

Daichi raises his other eyebrow. “What did I tell you about talking back, Tetsurou?”

“That… that I get a punishment,” Tetsurou answers, swallowing.

“That’s right,” Daichi nods. “Now be a good boy and keep touching yourself. Couldn’t wait for me to come home, couldn’t you? You wanted me to find you like this, didn’t you? Probably dreaming about when I’d discover your dirty little secret.”

Tetsurou doesn't bother to respond, tumbling over the edge of his orgasm with a loud cry. Daichi rubs his thigh, murmuring sweet nothings as Tetsurou catches his breath. He attempts to get off the couch, grab a washcloth and clean up, when Daichi catches his hand.

“We’re not done, baby. Far from it.”

Tetsurou hates Daichi use his pet names against him. “Oh? Are we? I was doing all the work, you know.”

“Not for long,” Daichi says, tugging Tetsurou to the bedroom and kicking the door wider, too eager to be quiet. “On the bed. Don’t lay down,” Daichi orders, narrowing his eyes a little to let him know he means business; but his captain voice always means business, and Tetsurou is never one to disobey when he does that.

Okay, that’s a lie, but he can still be good.

Tetsurou sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. With an intense gaze, he watches Daichi strip, as his eyes rack his lover’s toned body. Clothes pile on the floor. Neither of them care enough to move them. That’s something for post-orgasm, cleaning them. Nothing horny them should worry their pretty little heads about. “You know, I can help-”

“Nope,” Daichi answers. “Remember I’m in charge. I’ll tell you when you can help.”

Tetsurou scoffs, but doesn't miss the warning look Daichi throws his direction.

Daichi climbs on the bed, shifting so he lays down on his back and looking up at Tetsurou. When he doesn't scoot closer to him, Daichi tsks.

“And here I thought you may like me more than a jersey,” he muses, eyes half-closed. “I haven’t even taken my shower yet. You don’t want to smell me?”

Tetsurou hates Sawamura Daichi’s guts. He hates them so fucking much.

“No shower yet?” Tetsurou says, bending down so he’s on top of Daichi. Elbows on either side of Daichi’s head, Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “I suppose something must be done about that. You stink.”

“That might be convincing if you literally weren’t just jacking off to my sweaty laundry.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tetsurou growls.

“That’s later,” Daichi nonchalantly says. “Be patient.”

Tetsurou grabs Daichi’s arms and holds them above his head, thumb rubbing circles on his wrist. “I only hope you can stay still, because I’m about to wreck you, Sa’amura,” Tetsurou purrs.

He never would’ve thought he’d considered armpits sexy.

(What’s next, feet? No. Even Tetsurou has a limit. Well, that  _ could  _ be sexy...)

Tetsurou presses soft kisses down Daichi’s jaw, occasionally nipping at the sweaty skin. Fuck, the beads of sweat all over Daichi taste so good. He smells so good. He can’t believe he was ever content with only a shirt.

He licks a long stripe across Daichi’s collar bones, causing a loud moan.

“Thatta boy,” Tetsurou mutters. He continues his trail of open-mouthed kisses, pausing once he reaches Daichi’s armpit. He breathes in the scent, nose against the skin. Before he loses his nerve, his tongue slips out and takes a tentative lick.

Daichi shivers hard. “Is it bad I don’t find that weird?” he mutters. “Rather the opposite. That felt.. good.”

“It should be weirder how much I enjoyed that,” Tetsurou replies, licking the armpit once again. He does soft nibbles and savors not only the taste but Daichi’s shaky groans. “I never brought it up, I thought it would scare you off.”

“I didn’t consider it until I found you in the bathroom after you thought I fell asleep,” Daichi admits. “Ever since then, that idea was planted in my mind.”

Tetsurou loosens his grip on Daichi’s hands, his left hand going down Daichi’s body. Feather-light touches cover everywhere, except the aching member. 

Daichi jerks his hips. “Fuck, touch me already, Tetsurou,” he demands.

“I am touching you,” Tetsurou says against his armpit, teasing a nipple briefly.

“You know what I mean!” he snaps. Ah, there’s the impatient captain he loves.

“Sassy boys don’t get handjobs,” Tetsurou hums, pressing hard on Daichi’s slit.

He lifts his head a little to glare. Tetsurou smiles sweetly and bites harshly on the tender skin right as he grabs his member.

Daichi yelps, throwing his head back against his pillow. “You’re such a damn tease,” he grumbles, voice shaky.

“You’re not in a position to back-talk me, mister.” Tetsurou slows his hand, but goes over Daichi’s whole length. “You look so good for me…” And smell good. Fuck, Daichi’s musk smells so good, he’s almost dizzy.

Tetsurou removes his other hand from Daichi’s wrists and immediately his hands tug on Tetsurou’s hair, pulling their lips together harshly. It’s not a neat kiss, with their teeth almost clashing, but still makes Tetsurou’s stomach flutter all the same.

He moves up Daichi’s jaw again, heading down his neck to cover his chest in love bites and marks. Nails scrape his sides and he receives a low moan in response. Tetsurou mouths a nipple as he rubs Daichi’s hips, nails digging in and leaving crescent moons on the flushed, tan skin. 

Once he deems Daichi’s chest covered in enough hickeys and bites, Tetsurou continues south. He purposefully glides over Daichi’s shaft and heads straight towards one of his favorite parts of him: the thighs. Oh goodness, how he loves Daichi’s thighs.

He’s had so many dreams of Daichi crushing him with his thighs, it’s not even funny. All the way back in high school, when they first meet. After that first day when Karasuno and Nekoma had practice games for the first time in years, one of the main thoughts reoccurring in his head was how nice the rival captain’s thighs looked. Past Tetsurou would be pleased and ultra horny to know being trapped by those delectable thighs became a reality. Head squashed because of those soft, yet strong thighs… Tetsurou knows that he’ll die a happy man after experiencing this sensation. He still can’t believe how lucky he is to experience all of this miracle of a man named Sawamura Daichi. Bless the Nekoma and Karasuno rivalry that brought them together.

Teeth graze the sweaty skin, nipping the tender area. Daichi pants, trying to keep his breath even. Tetsurou mouths one fading hickey, making it even bigger than the original. The whole time, he’s racking his nails up and down, sometimes being light and teasing, other times going hard to leave much beloved scratches.

Pretty much every time they have sex, Tetsurou has his hands and mouths all over Daichi’s thighs at some point. Not just holding them as they fuck, but kissing and biting and marking as much skin as possible. He loves seeing hickeys poke out of Daichi’s volleyball shorts, see the bruises change color until they fade, and are once again remarked and the cycle begins all over once more.

He’s feeling a little cocky now, seeing Daichi squirm from pleasure underneath him. Maybe that’s why he’s suddenly on his back again. Needs to be knocked down a few pegs. Daichi is always good at doing that.

“On your hands and knees, pretty boy,” Daichi coos.

A flush covers his cheeks. “Doggy style?” he asks.

“We’re not to the actual sex just yet,” Daichi replies. “Now I believe I gave you an order?”

Tetsurou gets into place. Not without rolls his eyes; a smack to his ass is quick to follow.

“Having a bit of an attitude now, are we?” Daichi says, ignoring Tetsurou’s yelp of surprise.

“Need to keep you on your toes,” Tetsurou answers. Daichi slaps his ass again, rubbing the cheek softly after. Tetsurou hisses, the sting settling in. 

“Better behave if you want my cock,” Daichi reminds him. “We’re not going to have any problems, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Tetsurou murmurs.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, captain,” he corrects himself, speaking a little louder.

“Good,” Daichi nearly purrs. “I guess you earned my mouth. I know you’ve been craving for some relief. Don’t hide your noises.”

Tetsurou clenches the sheets, not even bothering to keep quiet as Daichi moves his mouth to his ass. Tongue sliding between his cheeks, flicking at his hole… Tetsurou doesn't want to admit how loud Daichi makes him whenever he gives him a rimjob.

“Not even touching your cock and you’re so weak,” Daichi teases, gripping Tetsurou’s hips tighter. He knows marks will be left from Daichi’s nails; he looks forward to it. “Can’t even stay on your hands and knees.”

True. Daichi’s mouth makes him so on edge and jittery, Tetsurou ended up with his chest on the bed and his butt in the air, too focused on gripping the sheets and groaning to even care.

“I bet I could make you cum from this alone,” Daichi muses. “Wanna try?”

“I know you could,” Tetsurou pants. “I know that’d feel good. But I want you, I can’t wait any longer.”

“You want me? How do you want me, exactly?” Daichi teases. One hand dips back down to squeeze Tetsurou’s ass cheek.

Tetsurou catches his breath, casting a glance over his shoulder. Daichi rubs his hips, watching intently.

“I want your cock,” Tetsurou slowly says. “I want you to fill me up with your cock and your cum.”

Daichi shudders. It’s not very noticable but Tetsurou knows Daichi well enough to be aware of what to watch out for. And that shudder means he enjoys that idea a lot.

Tetsurou pushes himself off the bed and slides into Daichi’s lap. Since he doesn't protest about orders, he knows that Daichi is as impatient as he is. Only he does a better job at hiding it.

Tetsurou doesn't even care about Daichi rinsing his mouth out before kissing again, too antsy and needy (he’ll deny that second bit) to wait.

“Can I ride you?” Tetsurou pants once their lips part, saliva connecting their mouths.

“Yeah,” Daichi says, breathless as his hands trace up Tetsurou’s back. “Y-yeah. I need to be inside you. Where’s the lube?”

“Where it always is,” Tetsurou remarks, but he rolls on his side to reach for the bottle on their bedside table.

“I need to fuck you so you’ll shut up,” Daichi mutters.

“You’ll need a gag or one of your ugly ties to shut me up, babe. But you like me moaning your name too much for that,” Tetsurou says, fluttering his eyes. He knows how weak Daichi can be for his eyes, and loves to tease him about it.

Daichi lets out a small laugh. “Maybe so. My ties aren’t ugly, though.”

They switch spots, Tetsurou laying on his back with Daichi hovering over him. 

“Yes they are. Who likes squares on their ties?!” Tetsurou protests.

“I believe your grandmother gifted that one to me.”

“Oh, right,” Tetsurou recalls. At Daichi’s birthday dinner last year. Still no excuse. “I’m still blaming you for bad fashion taste,” he decides.

Daichi laughs again, this time wholeheartedly. Ah, the amused laugh. “What for? I didn’t pick the gift. That’s not how gifts work, you know.”

Tetsurou chuckles. “It’s always more fun to blame you,” he quips.

“Akaashi is right, you are a pain in the ass.”

“You’re about to be a pain in  _ my  _ ass, if you would so kindly hurry the fuck up.”

With a (rather fond) roll of his eyes, Daichi pours the cool liquid on his fingers. He rubs the digits together to warm up the lube. He nudges Tetsurou’s knees up, propping them so the backs of his feet graze his thighs. 

“Are you ready?” Daichi murmurs, resting one arm on the top of Tetsurou’s knee. Soft eyes match his gaze. “I’m going to put one finger in, okay?”

Tetsurou breathes, trying to relax as much as he can. The finger isn’t even in yet but he’s tense. Luckily with Daichi it’s easy to work through. “Yeah. Yeah, yes, you can go.”

At the clear sign of consent, Daichi slides a finger inside, going by knuckle until the whole finger is inside.

Tetsurou instinctively squeezes around it, breath hitching as he gets used to the feeling. Daichi rubs his thigh, mumbling soft praise and assurances.

Soon the awkward feeling of a finger up his ass mellows out. It really feels good when Daichi accidentally (“accidentally”) brushes against his prostate.

Tetsurou whines and Daichi only smiles. Finger number goes up as his patience goes down.

“Daichi, I’m fine,” he insists as Daichi moves three fingers around. “I’m r- _ ready _ .”

“Excuse me for making sure you don’t tear anything,” Daichi says, no bite in his words. “You can wait a minute.”

“I’ve been waiting forever,” Tetsurou complains, dramatically flinging his arm across his eyes.

Daichi is not impressed. “Not even five minutes.”

“That’s too long!” Tetsurou whines.

“Maybe if you’re counting in dog years.”

“Hey, I’m a cat. We’ve discussed this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daichi reaches towards the bedside table, opening the top drawer and grabbing a foil package. Takes him a moment to open it with lubed fingers, but he manages.

He swats away Tetsurou’s hands. “I got it.”

“I’m just trying to help my poor boyfriend who’s having trouble with the condom~”

“Because I forgot to open one before my fingers are covered in lube, screw you.”

“You’re about to screw me,” Tetsurou replies in an almost bored tone. “And you’re taking far too long.”

Daichi snorts. “Afraid you’ll lose your erection?” he teases.

“Hey! Not cool,” Tetsurou pouts. “No, I’m doing perfectly well!”

Daichi slides the condom over his member, covering the rubber with more lube. Slowly he presses inside, both him and Tetsurou groaning at the sensation. As they both get used to it, Daichi keeps a close eye on Tetsurou, waiting for the all clear.

When Tetsurou opens his eyes and nods, panting a little, Daichi goes hard to town. Soon Tetsurou’s head is full of  _ Daichi, Daichi, harder please, Daichi. _

He yelps embarrassingly loud when Daichi thrusts perfectly against his prostate.

Daichi smirks even wider.

“You know, I thought I was going to ride you,” Tetsurou murmurs between moans.

“You want to, baby?” Daichi promptly flips them once more, so Tetsurou sits on top of his lap. “Then put on a good show for me.”

Tetsurou bends down and grips Daichi’s shoulders, grinding low on him. The effect is instantaneous, with Daichi now being the one taken down a few pegs.

“Put on a good show for me,” Tetsurou tauntingly says, always loving to replay Daichi’s words back at him. Especially in the bedroom.

Daichi rocks his hips up right as Tetsurou goes down, and he’s having a hard time trying not to cum like a damn virgin.

Luckily he doesn't have to hold out too long as they both dip over the edge of orgasms.

Tetsurou plops against Daichi’s chest, heartbeat sounding in his ear; it comforts him.

“You need to wear my jersey more often,” Daichi murmurs.

Tetsurou quietly laughs. “I didn’t think you’d be into this sweat thing.”

“It was pretty hot,” Daichi admits. He wraps an arm around Tetsurou’s lower back, and he leans further into his embrace. “I’ll deny that in front of everyone, but it was hot.”

“You liked knowing I was jacking off to your sweaty laundry,” Tetsurou purrs, toying with a nipple. “What a pervert.”

“Says the one who did the said jacking off to my dirty laundry,” Daichi retorts, shuddering a little at the nipple squeeze. “Already ready for round two?”

“Really I’m in the mood for a shower and dinner,” Tetsurou admits. “But before bed, I’ll be back at it again.”

“Your stamina is far too high.”

Tetsurou raises his eyebrows. “You literally have the same stamina as me.”

“This is about you, not me.”

“Hypocrite,” Tetsurou says with love.

Daichi sits up, holding Tetsurou close to his chest so he doesn't slide onto the mattress. “You expect me to carry you to the shower?”

“Of course.”

“You going to get off my cock first or-?”

“It’s nice, let me be for a minute,” Tetsurou yawns, resting his chin in Daichi’s neck.

“Oh, so you have a cockwarming kink now?” Daichi rubs his hip, massaging where his nails dug into the tan skin.

“You act like you don’t love it.”

Daichi only hums, which is pretty much the same as admitting for him. Tetsurou counts that as a win.

Moments of silence pass, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Tetsurou is used to the silence, his best friend is Kozume Kenma, he’d have to be used to the silence by now. Against popular belief, he doesn't always chatter away when Kenma plays on his game consoles. He likes the peace and quiet, and is glad Daichi doesn't mind it either. Sometimes they’ll be in the same room, even on the same bed or couch, and not say a word. He likes that they can spend time together, not even speaking or doing the same activity, and still be content and happy.

Finally Daichi grunts and grabs Tetsurou’s hips, ready to lift him up. “Okay, now you really need to get off if you want me to carry you to the shower. Or we nap while you’re still on me,” he adds jokingly.

“I’m not opposed to that in the future,” Tetsurou says as he lifts himself off his lover’s cock. He sucks in a breath, hissing at the now emptiness.

Daichi manages to pick up Tetsurou, open the bathroom door, and start the shower all without an issue. Daichi’s strength is one of the sexiest things about him. And Tetsurou loves knowing first-hand.

He sets Tetsurou down on the bathroom stool while he gets out their towels. Tetsurou is in no way ashamed to admit that he stares freely at Daichi’s perfect (and marked by yours truly) ass.

“I know you’re staring,” Daichi says, not bothering to turn out or even look at him through the mirror as he sets the towels on the bathroom counter.

“Your ass is so delicious, like a snack. It’s thick, but spelled with two c’s.”

“You’re weird,” Daichi says, a puff of laughter spilling out as he looks at a cheeky Tetsurou through the mirror.

“But you love me.” Tetsurou flutters his eyes.

“Yeah,” Daichi says, face softening. He doesn't dare look away from Tetsurou’s eyes. “Yeah, I really do.”

Tetsurou clears his throat, knowing he’s redder than he’d like to admit. “Okay, show’s over.” He waves his hand. “Sap time is done. Back to the shower where inevitable tension will rise again and we’ll fuck before we actually clean.”

“The show’s never over with you,” Daichi chuckles. He slides the fogged up glass door of the shower. “Now get in. As hot as sweaty sex is, after the fact is still kinda gross. So you’re right in the sense that we would clean after another round.”

“Only lusting after my sweaty muscles when practice is done?” Tetsurou fake-pouts, getting off the stool and into the warm stream of water. “I didn’t know you could switch off lust, Daichi-chan~”

Daichi rolls his eyes. “You’ll get that creampie you were aching for earlier, if you shut up.”

“Make me, Daichi.”

“Gladly.”


End file.
